


In Which Mary Cries in Kitchens

by lionkate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Mary/Caradoc if you squint, mentions of many order members
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionkate/pseuds/lionkate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Macdonald was good at keeping a stiff upper lip in front of the others, but not so much in her kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Mary Cries in Kitchens

Edgar just wanted a drink. Just a drink. And Vance had said that there was pumpkin juice in the kitchen, so that’s what he’d expected to find in the kitchen. He had not expected to find a Mary MacDonald crying over an empty pot.

Somehow the thing that most disturbed him was that she was scrubbing the pot by hand.

Ed had dealt with a decent number of crying women in his time, but he usually at least knew why the crying was happening. And it was usually someone he knew better than miss MacDonald. His first instinct was to turn tail and get someone else to deal with it, Mickinnon or Evans or anyone, but Ed suffered a good few Hufflepuff traits.

He scratched his chin awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Err, Mary, is it?”

She hiccuped and turned with a fright, noticing him for the first time.

“Now, what’re you crying for? Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He said with his easiest grin. “Well, no girls should cry, but you get my meaning.” He was relieved to note a little upturn in the corner of her lips.

Hesitantly he reached out to her, gave her shoulder a squeeze, and wiped a few tears off her cheek. “Come on, love, give us a smile.” He said.

Not for the first time Edgar had to wonder just what they were thinking. Her mates, the girls, had insisted on not including her in the true Order business, for her own sake, but then he couldn’t understand why they’d involved her this much at all. Sure, she cooked for them, but it wasn’t safe. Sometimes he thought she was a liability.

She did smile though. It was watery and didn’t fully take, but it was something.

“You want me to get the girls? They might be able to help better than me.”

“No, no, thank you.” Her Scottish brogue was charming. “It’s nothing, you know. Onions, and all that."

A quick glance around the kitchen revealed no such onions.

“They’re busy, and I have to get started on dinner.” All of a sudden her smile was very real and not a little blinding. She put a hand on his forearm. “Don’t worry them, please.”

He nods, gives her a wink, and exits the kitchen without another word.

He’s beginning to see why they can’t just close her off.

About an hour later he realizes he never got his drink.

 


End file.
